Elizabeth the Shinigami
by GrellsLilSecret
Summary: Elizabeth is distraught when Ciel dies mysteriously just before they are married, which leads to suicidal actions. Afterwards, she is reborn as a Shinigami where she learns the truth about Ciel and Sebastian as well as a means to possibly still save Ciel. Of course, doing so might mean giving up her own chance at redemption.
1. Chapter 1

**Elizabeth the Shinigami**

 **Chapter 1:**

Only the softest murmurs filtered through the massive church; the voices rising softly towards the high ceiling to gather among the eaves like soft, gauzy banners. Elizabeth stood at the front, and she could feel the weight of the eyes of the crowd lying upon her shoulders. Even though she had her back to the people, she knew they were all looking at her. Some were searching every inch of expensive gown, which had been made especially for this day, perhaps looking for some flaw to report. Others simply stared at her stance and the way she carried herself during such a momentous occasion, but she didn't turn around. Instead, she kept her eyes locked on Ciel's face as she stood without moving despite the weakness that caused her legs to tremble beneath her voluminous skirt.

In the past few years, he had grown much taller and his matured face was handsome. She had heard it whispered that he was even more the beautiful noble than his father, but she had never really thought to compare the two. She remembered what Ciel's parents looked to a certain degree, but when she tried to pick out which details of Ciel's appearance were that of his father, her own memory turned hazy and indistinct. Memory was certainly a fickle thing, although she didn't think it was really of much consequence.

Ciel had postponed their wedding until after his eighteenth birthday. There was no real reason for that wait, and she had heard the whispers rippling throughout society that this postponement was due to the fact he didn't want to marry her. She had ignored such rumors, feigning ignorance to even the existence of such tales, although it bothered her to still only be a fiancé when other women her age had already become wives and even mothers. It seemed now, however, that she no longer had to wait and anticipate the day.

It was December 14th and Ciel's eighteenth birthday. They were both here now, in the church in front of all the people that new them, and they were both dressed exquisitely, but nothing was as Elizabeth had planned.

This was Ciel's funeral and not their wedding.

Her dress should be of pure, untainted white with various ruffles in lace as if she was wrapped in in a gauzy cloud awaiting her ascension to marital bliss. Instead, she was clothed in plain, black melrose with crepe upon the sleeves and collar. The skirt was full but had no decoration of bead or ornaments, and the black veil of her hat only cast a dark shadow upon her view. She couldn't imagine anything more evil. Ciel had been taken away from her for a second time, but there was no chance for a miracle this time around despite her desperate prayers. Her world was drained of color until all that was left was the horrible shadows that stretched out for all of eternity. She sobbed quietly, but no tears fell from her eyes. She had cried so deeply the past couple of days, she didn't think that she would ever be able to shed another tear.

Words circled around her although the sounds held no meaning, and soon her parents were there to lead her away from the only man she could ever love. She kept her eyes locked on his body, which seemed to be drowning in a pool of lilies, as they moved away to shut the coffin and move on to the procession. As a woman, she was not expected to go to the gravesite but rather on to the manor where cakes and other desserts had been prepared, but she was going to step outside of social norms for one of the few times in her life. She was going to stay by Ciel until the very end.

The hearse was an elaborate affair all decked with gold trim and ostrich feathers, but it seemed a bit ostentatious suddenly. It was something that she had simply accepted as normal, but now it seemed a bit too grand and almost insultingly cheerful for such a morbid occasion. They should all be dressed in rags and trudging this frozen ground so they might possibly express some of the turmoil raging in their hearts. Perhaps they could do as they did in biblical times and wear a sackcloth and cover themselves with ashes, but really it would be just as much as a show as this. In truth, there was no action nor words that could even come close to expression how she truly felt as she climbed into her family's carriage for the short trip.

All too soon, the horses were guided into the cemetery, and she pulled back the black curtain just a bit. Standing by the iron fence was a tall, somewhat lanky man, and Elizabeth realized that she recognized the unusual individual. He had been the one who had acted as undertaker in the past, but no one had seen him for some time. In fact, his shop had been vacant for some years with the empty windows staring out into the street like hollow eyes. He looked at her, or at least she assumed that he was looking since she could not see his eyes through the thick fringe of silvery banes, before casually waving his hand with a smile. Anger rose within her briefly that he would dare smile, but he turned and slowly trudged away as the carriage rode past.

When they had stopped, Elizabeth leapt from the carriage, but the old man was nowhere to be seen. Her anger melted into the numbness that had infected her heart as she turned her dry face to look at the hole that would soon be her beloved's home. A few of the pallbearers had begun to giggle and jostle each other, and she realized they had been given a bit too much to drink to protect themselves from the bitter cold, but she was distraught they couldn't at least be a little more respectful. After all, there were two deaths here. One was Ciel and the other was her very heart which she had long since given him to hold.

As the gold gilded casket was removed, the first few snowflakes began to fall, and Elizabeth found it fitting. It was as if God Himself was crying frozen tears.

((x))

There were more conversations once she returned the manor, but the hushed whispers faded into nothingness when she walked into the room. All eyes were upon her once again, and Elizabeth wished that everyone would just look the other way. At one time, she could have enjoyed being the center of attention, but she would have preferred to be alone so she could roam the familiar halls like the ghost she felt she had become. Maybe she could even find some tiny piece of Ciel still lingering like a forgotten perfume.

Soon, the conversations began to start up once again and Elizabeth walked quietly to a distant corner where she hoped she would remain partially unseen.

"Miss?" a voice inquired to her right.

Turning, Elizabeth saw Mey-Rin nearby with a generous piece of cake on a delicate piece of china. Bardroy and Finnian were standing just behind the maid, and there were looks of sympathy on their faces. "Here, Miss Elizabeth," Mey-rin said, holding out the cake to her, "You didn't get any desert."

"I don't have much appetite, I'm afraid," Elizabeth replied in a soft tone.

"It's really good cake," Mey-Rin continued, "Mr. Sebastian made it before…" Her voice trailed off and she sniffed slightly as if trying to keep from crying.

"Is there any trace of Sebastian?" asked Elizabeth, "Has anyone learned anything?"

Mey-Rin shook her head wordlessly. It seemed that she was too choked on emotion to speak, so Bardroy volunteered to answer. "Not a thing," he said, "It's just like he disappeared."

"I hope something bad didn't happen to him like it did to the young master," Finnian added, as he wiped away tears.

Elizabeth nodded, and took the offered cake, which appeared to be a buttercream of some sort topped with raspberries. She had no interest in eating, but she didn't really want to continue the conversation. Although it felt like she had aged years since she had first learned the news, it had only been a few days prior that Ciel had been found in a ruined chapel on the far side of the grounds. Although cold and dead, there were no marks on his body and no clues what could have led to his death. The only oddities, other than the unexplained death itself, was that the ring with the Phantomhive crest had been missing, and Sebastian's pin, the sign of the head butler, was lying near Ciel's side. As for Sebastian, no one had seen or heard from him since he had left for an unspecified trip the day before. Elizabeth carefully took a small bite of the cake and manage to swallow it with some difficulty. Although she was sure it was sweet, it tasted bitter on her tongue.

With sad smiles, the three servants walked away as they attended to the rest of the crowd. She noted that Tanaka was not among them, but she had heard that he had not been feeling well lately. Perhaps he was lying upstairs and resting, which was probably for the best. He was a dear man, and all the tragedy he had seen had probably only aged him further.

From her spot, Elizabeth stood there with the rest of the uneaten cake and watched the other mourners. Their conversations blurred and blended into one another, but one sound soon rose above all the others. A loud ticking noise slowly climbed in volume until it was almost deafening, and she realized that it was the ornate clock standing against the far wall. Her eyes were drawn to those slender, gold hands as they moved furtively on the bone white face; tiny hands that were now cruel reminders of the all the time that lay ahead for her.

Alone.

Finally, the crowd began to scatter and Elizabeth allowed herself to be silently guided back to the carriage. It had grown bitterly cold since she had last been outside, and now a skiff of snow coated the ground. The ride home was slow for fear the horses might slip. Once they had finally arrived, she immediately retired to her room along with Paula.

"I think I'll go to bed now," she announced tonelessly.

"Already miss?" Paula asked, "It's early yet."

"I am tired," she stated, "I…I just wish to sleep now. I want to be out of these dreary clothes and lying in bed where I can imagine this is just some horrible dream." Her voice rose as she spoke as her grief twisted into something resembling anger.

"Of course," Paula said quietly. With efficiency acquired from years of practice, she swiftly removed the stiff, black dress and corset, but Lizzy still felt as if she was being constrained somehow. Soon, the offensive, mourning garb had all been removed and she found herself in a soft nightgown with matching cap. It was white, which seemed almost offensive now, with pink lace along the edges. It had been her favorite before, but now it was just a reminder of how much had changed so quickly.

Paula turned the covers back and Lizzy climbed onto the soft bed. "Good night, Lady Elizabeth," Paula said before quietly leaving the room.

Elizabeth closed her eyes as mental exhaustion soon pulled her deep beneath the waves of sleep. Just before she fell asleep, however, she couldn't help but wonder if this was what it felt like to die.

((x))

Even though she always walked with the grace of a lady, Francis still moved with a strength and determination that seemed in direct contrast with her lovely, feminine frame. It was some sort of internal strength that was hard to pinpoint but impossible to deny, and it only increased when she did have a mission in mind. Because of this, Lizzy knew that her mother meant business the moment she stepped into the room. Of course, Francis rarely saw any reason to come into Lizzy's quarters, so her appearance would have given Lizzy reason enough to suspect something important was at hand even without noting her mother's hardened stance and step.

"Paula has informed me you still insist on wearing your mourning dress," Francis said without any sort of preamble.

Lizzy looked at her more than a little surprised. She had only just awoken, so her mind was still somewhat indistinct, but this talk of her attire made little sense. In the two weeks since the funeral, Lizzy had barely left her room, but when she had she had made sure to wear one of her black dresses. "Of course," she managed, "It is only proper while I am still in mourning."

Francis' shoulders stiffened slightly. "It would be proper if you were a widow," she replied, "but you are not. You were only a fiancé and never a proper bride."

Lizzy rolled from the bed and stood before her mother in her bare feet. It still surprised her that she stood slightly taller that Francis although their features were so similar that looked more like sisters than mother and daughter. "I was Ciel's bride," she insisted, "Just because we never had the actual ceremony didn't mean I was not his wife."

"That is precisely what it means," returned Francis, "You were not his wife, but you will be a bride. It is important to put this tragic business behind us and look to the future. You now need a proper husband to protect you."

Elizabeth's mouth dropped in surprise as she realized what her mother meant. "How can you say that?" she gasped.

"Because it is the truth," returned Francis plainly. "It is your duty to marry, and so you shall be wed. We have already tarried nearly too long, so we must take care of this matter quickly."

"I will never marry!" shouted Lizzy. She had never raised her voice to her mother before, nor had she dared to utter such things, but her emotions had overwhelmed her to the point she felt she had no control over her words. "Duty be damned! Ciel was the only person I could ever love and now he's gone! I won't marry anyone else! I couldn't!"

The sound of the slap echoed throughout the room, and Lizzy felt the sting upon her cheek. She looked at her mother in something of amazement because it was only the second time Francis had ever struck her, but caught a glimpse of a rare sight of a forbidden tear glistening in her mother's eyes. Francis looked sorrowful at her actions, and stepped forward to briefly envelope her daughter in an awkward hug.

"It is as your duty as a lady," she whispered in Lizzy's ear, "We sacrifice ourselves for our roles and cast aside dreams of love for the sake of family connections." Stepping back, she looked up at her daughter and pushed aside the long blonde cowlick that was so like her own. "It is not a kind world that we live in, Lizzy." She paused suddenly, almost as if she had been on the verge of saying something else but then thought better of it.

"You will marry," Francis finally continued, "and with your connections, it will be a grand marriage. Through your own will, you can seek out your own happiness, but never forget your duty and responsibility. You will find a man to protect and care for you. Remember, Lizzy, a woman's true strength lies in her ability to do what is required of her despite anything her heart might say."

She turned and gracefully glided towards the door, only pausing as her long, elegant fingers graced the doorknob. "I know you favor pinks," she said, "but I think one of you green dresses might be best for today as those do bring out your eyes. We will be heading out soon, and it will be good people to see you out in your regular wardrobe so that they know your mourning period has passed. Paula will be in a moment to assist you. Do you understand?"

Francis didn't wait for an answer as she swiftly left the room. "Yes. I understand," Lizzy said humbly. In truth, her heart just didn't have the strength to fight her circumstances any longer. She was waiting rather submissively with Paula came into the room to help her with her wardrobe.

((x))

Marion the Earl of Fieldling had been quickly chosen as a suitable candidate for marriage, and Lizzy saw no reason to reject this suitor other than her own lack of feelings. He was a handsome enough man; tall and well-built with a thick mane of light brown hair and honey colored eyes. Although 10 years her senior, he was still far closer to her own age than many other possible suitors, and he had never before been wed. There were few outlandish tales about the man himself, and his manners were as refined as one could hope of any gentleman. He was communicative and friendly in social gatherings and never failed to pay appropriate attention to Lizzy.

But she could never love him.

Each time she was in his company, she couldn't help but compare him side by side to Ciel. Of course, Ciel was far better looking, but there was, or rather had been, so much more to him than simply his pleasing appearance. He was intelligent and quick-witted. Long ago, Lizzy had learned that he often toyed with people as he spoke, as if it was nothing more than a game. She had pretended to be ignorant and had even felt slightly sorry for his 'opponents' at times, but she never failed to admire Ciel's mastery of words and intelligence. Marion lacked this spark of higher functioning. Although not an ignorant man, it appeared he rarely had an original thought or opinion. He merely parroted popular points of view. Besides, he moved with a certain pomp that Lizzy found more befitting a rooster than a man. Ciel had been prideful, but somehow had managed to merge his pride with a certain humility. This man held up very poorly to her beloved Ciel, but it appeared she had no choice in the matter. The arrangements were already being made.

Lizzy moved in and out of each day with very little awareness. There were fittings for the dress, which she heard was beautiful, but her world had been sapped of all color and vibrancy. All around was activity and excitement, but she was slowly dying on the inside. This the first time in her life that she feared the future because was the first time it was all so very uncertain. She was determined, however, to be the good, dutiful daughter on her the path to being a proper wife that took her place in society despite how she might feel about certain things.

Two days before the wedding, Paula had suggested a shopping excursion to ease some pre-martial jitters, and Lizzy had agreed. In an odd way, it was nice to be out and away from all the noise and fuss, and the sound of the carriage wheels rattling over the streets was comforting. Lizzy even managed a smile as they moved into the center of London.

After stepping out of the carriage, Lizzy decided that she would enjoy a walk and Paula agreed to accompany her. There was still a lot of weight on her heart, but her steps began to feel lighter, and she could almost imagine herself just walking away from all this and never looking back. She had no idea where she would go, and she was rational enough to know it was nothing but a foolish daydream, but it was still so much fun to twist and turn inside her head as dreamt of impossible possibilities.

"Watch out!" someone screamed and terrified shrieks filled the air.

Lizzy was jerked from her walking dream and turned to see a horrible sight. A carriage as black as night was rattling out of control as it was being hurled along by four massive horses. Their hooves threw up sparks as if running through the streets of Hell and blood and foam caked their lips. Those horses were running themselves to death, as if being chased by some unknown evil, but anyone in their path would surely follow to the grave.

And there was a small girl ahead.

She was a tow headed child of no more than five or six, but it was obvious her twisted legs would not allow her to move out of the way in time. Surely, if someone didn't do something very soon, that child would be dead.

Even before her feet moved, Elizabeth understood she would not survive this deed, but she did not care. All of her life, she had lived for someone else. For the first 19 years, she had lived only for her family and for Ciel. If she got married, then she would live only for her husband. Her life had no meaning unless it was to benefit another, so this action only made sense. She could hear everything so vividly as if each sound was a separate instrument. Paula was screaming at her to stop. The horses' hooves were banging and clapping. The child whimpered softly and tried to move out of the way.

Lizzy only barely made it. With all of her strength, she shoved the child aside as she felt those sharp, heavy hooves tear into her flesh. Distantly, she could hear the sound of her own bones shattering inside her as the pain ripped through with indescribable agony. She was being washed in horrific pain as if tossed into an ocean of torment, and it was pulling her down with a relentless undercurrent.

All of her senses began to fail, and she knew that she was dying. Yet, as blackness overtook her sight and the sounds faded from her ears, a strange noise suddenly echoed. It was like a peculiar laugh.

Fu…Fu…Fu…


	2. Chapter 2

_Please note: As this story is from Elizabeth's point of view, she thinks and refers to Grell using masculine terminology. This is not meant to be disrespectful towards Grell by any means._

 **Chapter 2:**

Indistinct sounds swirled about her as Lizzy struggled to awaken. She couldn't move, and actually had very little awareness of her own body, but she wasn't scared. Some part of her mind knew that she should be struggling against the chains of sleep and force herself to open her eyes, but she felt comfortable just lying here as the sounds slowly morphed into comprehensive words.

"I think someone's make a mistake on this one," a young, male voice said, "This bird shouldn't be here."

"I don't make the decisions," replied another voice, "The list said she was to be reborn."

"But that wasn't a suicide," insisted the first speaker, "It was self-sacrifice. We should have just collected her records and been done with it." He grumbled loudly. "I'm sure this is a mistake and we're going to get stuck with more paperwork and overtime because of it."

"If it is a mistake, then it's not ours," stated the second one in a slightly annoyed tone, "Let the higher ups deal with it and worry about things for a change."

More sensations returned to her body and she managed to let out a small moan as she struggled to open her eyes. Bright lights assaulted her, and she blinked several times as she tried to unsuccessfully bring her surroundings into focus.

"Looks, like she's waking up," announced the first voice.

Lizzy struggled into a sitting position, but the world around her remained blurred. "Where am I?" she asked as she rubbed her eyes. Even though she was very confused at her present situation, she did her best to act as the part of a proper lady.

"Having trouble seeing?" asked the younger voice, "These should help."

She caught the glimpse of movement near her face and jerked back slightly before a hand holding what appeared to be a pair of glasses came into focus. At first, she started to argue that she had no need for the eyewear, but as soon as the glasses were slipped into place she found that she was able to see clearly. The room itself was a plain, white room that was barren of any sort of decoration, and she was lying on a simple, white cot. Even the dress she was currently wearing was a simple, white material that was far more common than her usual attire. The only color was that of her two strange companions.

The first one was a young man that appeared to be only a few years older than herself. His hair was oddly two-colors as the top part was blonde but the underneath was black, but it suited him well. His green-gold eyes looked at her curiously behind glasses with overly large frames that seemed more stylish than functional, and his suit was unusual in both cut and style. Overall, he was a good-looking man, but he seemed to be quite aware of that fact.

His companion appeared to be a little older, perhaps in his mid-twenties, and had the same intriguing eyes which were framed by a smallish pair of red glasses. He was effeminate and more of what she would call pretty than handsome, but his blazing red hair against his pale skin was what really captured the attention. While she couldn't be sure, she had the distinct feeling she had met him at some point in the past, but she couldn't place exactly when or where. He was draped in a coat as red as his hair, which also appeared oddly familiar with a vest and slacks that seemed tailored to suit his slender form.

"Did that help?" asked the young, blonde man.

She nodded as she struggled to make sense of the situation. "I never required spectacles in the past," she announced in a clear yet demure tone, "What precisely is happening here?"

He ran a hand through his mismatched hair and offered her what she assumed to be a comforting smile. "Not being able to see well is normal," he said, "when you've been reborn as a reaper."

"Pardon? Reborn as what?" Her voice rise slightly as she was sure her ears were playing tricks on her.

"You know – a grim reaper," he clarified.

While Lizzy had certainly heard the term before, it just didn't make any sense to her at this moment. "Grim reaper," she repeated carefully. Her mind conjured up images of skeletal figures in black cloaks. "I am afraid I don't understand. Do you mean one of those…beings that kill people?"

The two strangers looked at each other briefly before sharing a chuckle. "Well, we don't actually kill people," clarified the younger looking man, "We just collect their records after they die." His smile widened as he allowed his eyes to drift over her, and Lizzy felt a bit uncomfortable with the scrutiny. "Of course," he continued, "you wouldn't be assigned to work in the field. Women only work in the office."

"Present company excluded," added the other as he flipped his long red hair defiantly.

"Of course. So, my name is Ronald Knox, and this is Senior Sutcliff."

"Grell Sutcliff," came the verification.

"My name is Elizabeth, although most everyone calls me Lizzy," she said, bowing her head slightly. This was still a very confusing situation for Lizzy, although she was happy to finally have names for her two companions. It made things slightly easier to sort out in her own mind. "I am afraid that I still don't fully comprehend everything. You say that I have been reborn as a grim reaper? Why would I be chosen to be reborn? I am no one special. In fact, I am simply…" Her voice trailed off as she sought to state her family and rankings, but the memory was gone. The harder she tried to recall specific details, the more it faded. It was like trying to grab hold of a wisp of smoke. Her name had slipped out of her mouth with ease, but she found that she could remember nothing beyond that. "I have lost my memories," she gasped, momentarily forgetting her decorum.

"That's normal," Ronald explained, "Your memories will come back to you in time. At least, most of them will."

"This is all very confusing," Lizzy stated, trying hard not to become upset. If she was younger, she would have cried – or at least she felt that she would have. She had no true idea what she had been like as a child.

"I'd explain everything," Ronald said, as he glanced down at his watch. At least, Lizzy assumed it was a watch, although it was unlike any she had ever seen. "But I have a date. Senior, can you take over just this once?" Before anyone could respond, Ronald had already disappeared out the door.

"I hate babysitting," Grell grumbled, but then he turned and favored Lizzy with a broad smile. For the first time, she noticed the sharpness of the redhead's teeth, and she realized that while he might be something of an exotic beauty, he was also very dangerous. "I suppose the first step is to take you to administration so we can get you signed up for the appropriate class." He stood up and motioned for her to follow. Quickly, they left the room and started down a well-polished hall that was lit up a bit too brightly by strange lighting fixtures that were alien to her. Grell's stride was fast, the heels of rather attractive boots clacking loudly, and Lizzy found herself struggling to keep up.

"Could you explain what is happening to me while we go?" Lizzy inquired as they walked.

Grell sighed. "I suppose I have to since Ronnie's run off," he said, "Okay, you're a reaper now. You were human, but you died, and now you are a reaper. Make sense?"

"I suppose," she replied, "Although I am uncertain why I am a reaper instead of moving on. I thought Heaven awaited those after death."

"It does, for some," replied Grell, and she thought she detected an edge to his voice, "Humans who commit suicide are sometimes chosen to be reapers, although not all."

Lizzy came to an abrupt halt as she grabbed his arm. "I…committed suicide?" she asked, and she could hear her heart pounding loudly in her ears. "That is impossible. I would never do such a thing. The act is an unforgiveable sin." Her voice was shaking almost as badly as her hands.

Grell didn't seem particularly sympathetic as he pulled his arm away, and Lizzy realized that she might have offended him since him being here must have meant he had committed suicide himself. "You're here, aren't you?" he retorted coldly, "But, there is some debate because it didn't seem like you were trying to kill yourself."

"So, I wasn't purposely trying to end my own life?" Lizzy asked, "Tell me, what were the circumstances of my death?"

"I can't do that."

"Pardon?"

"I'm not allowed to," Grell clarified, "and I'm not going to risk getting written up again just to tell you." He turned the corner and came to a pair of strange silver doors. "Besides, you'll remember it soon enough, but it won't be a pleasant memory." He pushed a button between the doors.

Lizzy remained quiet as they stood there, although Grell seemed more than ready to talk. He complained about the slowness of the lift, although this lift was unlike anything Lizzy had ever seen or, more importantly, heard. Aside from the strange metallic exterior and interior, it was much quieter and smoother. They reached their desired floor in no time, but this time Grell seemed content to walk a bit slower as he led her to another room. An attractive woman with chestnut brown hair looked up from her desk, and smiled politely. Lizzy noted that this woman had the same eyes and also wore glasses, and she began to wonder if her own eyes looked the same.

"I've brought Elizabeth Midford for her assignment," Grell said to the woman.

"Yes," the woman replied, "Go on in. They're ready for her."

Grell led her to another room which was dominated by a long, oak table where four men sat. The only light in the room was a window behind them, which cast shadows about their faces, and this made Lizzy very uncomfortable. She did her best not to show it as she stood straight and proper beside Grell.

"I thought Knox was supposed to be her mentor," one of the men said in a gruff tone.

"He had other business," Grell replied.

"Probably a date," grumbled the one on the far right. "So this is Elizabeth Midford." He pointed one long finger at her. "You're lucky, Miss Elizabeth," he began, "that our new classes begin in two days. Otherwise you would have had to been kept in the death sleep for much longer."

None of this made any sense to Lizzy, and she had no idea what she was expected to do in this situation. "Yes, sir," she replied politely.

"Tomorrow you will need to gather your books, supplies, and uniform," another one said before turning his head slightly. "I trust Knox will be available tomorrow."

"He should be," Grell replied rather tersely.

The first man looked through some paperwork, although it seemed odd he could read anything in such poor light. "You've been assigned to the field agent division," he said, before handing the folder across the table, "Here is your class schedule and a list of the necessary materials as well as your dorm assignment."

Lizzy stepped forward to retrieve the folder. "Thank you sir," she said, curtseying slightly.

"That will be all," stated the man, waving his hand dismissively, "You've been excused. Sutcliff, take her to the dorm so that she can get settled in."

Grell nodded, and he led Lizzy out of the room and the outer office. While waiting for the lift to return, she started looking through all the documents and feeling a bit overwhelmed by everything. "I am afraid I am still terribly confused," she confessed to Grell, "What does field agent division mean exactly?"

She was answered with Grell's signature smile as the lift arrived and they stepped inside. "It means you'll be trained to be a field agent like Ronald and I. After you are trained, you'll be sent out to collect souls."

"I thought your companion said that women aren't assigned in the field," Lizzy said, before smiling back at the red reaper and recalling his words, "Present company excluded."

Grell laughed loudly and draped his arm loosely around her shoulders. "I think you and I are going to get along just fine," he predicted, as the doors opened and they stepped outside. "Now, let's find your dorm."

((x))

Lizzy awoke early the next day and found herself staring at plain eggshell white ceiling. For the briefest moment, she could almost see another ceiling and another room, but the image faded as soon as she was full awake. She couldn't help but wonder if these were her memories trying to come to the surface, but there was no way to know for certain. During the night, she had been plagued by dreams and nightmares, and even found herself shouting a name at one point – a name which she knew had special meaning. Whenever she whispered, "Ciel," a strange feeling would tear through her heart. She only hoped she would understand what it all meant soon.

Getting out of bed, she quickly took off the gown she had been wearing only to replace it with the same dress she had worn the day before. At this point, she had no other clothing nor were there any decorations in her room. Grell had explained that new students were given a small amount of coin for personal items so that she could do some shopping later, so perhaps she could make these small quarters more person. As luck would have it, she was the only one sharing this room since they were grouped in the dorms by class and she was the only female in the field agent group. She was just finishing her hair when she heard a knock on her door.

Opening the door, she was greeted by the smiling faces of Ronald and Grell. After talking yesterday, she actually felt more comfortable with Grell even though she still sensed he carried a certain amount of danger with him. There was something in Ronald's somewhat cocky smile and the way he leaned on the doorframe that made her a bit uneasy, although she knew that he was actually her mentor instead of Grell.

"Hey, babe," Ronald greeted, "Ready to go?"

She stiffened slightly since she was not used to be addressed in such a manner, but nodded her head. "I am ready," she answered. Stepping out of her room, she carefully locked the door behind her, and turned to start down the hall. Ronald took the initiative to put his arm around her shoulder, but Lizzy shrugged it off immediately. Grell had done something similar the day before, but he had done so in a friendly, almost sisterly, manner. Ronald seemed to have other intentions.

"What's wrong?" Ronald asked.

"What's wrong," Grell spoke up, "is that you don't know the proper way to treat a lady." He maneuvered himself between Ronald and Lizzy as he shot Ronald a pointed look.

"None of the birds ever complained before," Ronald said, almost pouting.

"That's because you've never dated a real lady," replied Grell.

Ronald shrugged slightly, but Lizzy noted something that appeared to nervousness just underneath the air of confidence. "Whatever," he said, "Let's get going then." He started down the hall.

"Is something wrong with him?" Lizzy whispered to Grell as they followed, "Is he nervous?"

"He is," Grell whispered back, "This is his first time being anyone's mentor, which is why he wants me to tag along. Plus, he does lose his head around a pretty face sometimes." Grell laughed softly. "He can be annoying, but Ronnie is a sweet kid. Just give him a chance."

Lizzy nodded and managed a small smile. While she didn't like Ronald forwardness, she could appreciate him being nervous. It was something that they had in common.

((x))

The rest of the day went fairly easily for the trio. Ronald seemed to calm down and, while he was still a bit cocky, he didn't seem as intent on flirting with Lizzy. He did drop a few hints about them going out to eat together, but she hadn't responded directly. While she couldn't have explained it, she almost felt as if it would be wrong for her to see Ronald outside his capacity of her mentor; as if she was being unfaithful. Perhaps she had been married when she was alive.

The grounds for the academy were not large and most of her classes would be confined to a single building. Both Ronald and Grell stressed the importance of being on time and told her she need to get a firm grasp on exactly how long it took to get from her dorm to her classes. Although she still had no memories, Lizzy knew that punctuality was not an issue for her, but she took their advice in stride.

Afterwards, they walked down to the scythe depository to pick up her first trainee scythe. Lizzy could feel the weight of many sets of eyes as she walked down the hall, but held herself in a respectable manner. The skinny, young man at the counter looked positively shocked when they approached, and started to argue when Ronald announced they had come for Lizzy's scythe, but then Grell stepped forward.

"You'll see her name is on the list, darling," Grell said, as leaned forward and ran his fingers through the man's blonde hair, "You're really don't want to give us any problems now, do you?" He batted his eyelashes flirtatiously, but Lizzy could hear the threat lacing his voice, and apparently the man had heard it too. He gulped nervously, his adam's apple bobbing almost comically in his overly thin neck, and he turned immediately to retrieve Lizzy's scythe.

She took the tool in her hands, and swung it gently a few times to get the feel of it. It was oddly comfortable in her grasp, and her movements became more fluid and comfortable. No longer worried about the stares, she spun around and found herself facing Grell with her scythe pointed directly at him.

An image suddenly sprung to her mind and she saw herself, a much younger her, holding a sword on Grell. She gasped as the memory became clear, and slowly lowered the scythe. "I…I remember you. We have met before, have we not?"

Grell's smile widened as his deadly teeth sparkled. "Have we?" he countered.

Lizzy paused because she knew Grell knew precisely what she was talking about but it was clear that he wasn't going to reveal any information. After all, he had told her that he wasn't allowed to share any details of her death with her, so maybe he had involved in that somehow. Nervously, she bit the inside of her cheek. She was really beginning to like Grell, although she feared that he was not to be trusted.

Ronald yawned loudly and dramatically as he checked his watch. "What else do we have to do?" he asked.

Grell's eyes flickered towards him without any change in his challenging smile. "We still have to pick up her uniform, books, and a few things for her room."

There was a dark frown from Ronald. "I hate shopping," he said, "I think I'll leave that to you two." Without saying goodbye, he turned and walked away.

"He certainly seems to do that quite a bit," Lizzy stated.

Grell shrugged casually. "Ronnie's too impatient for his own good," he huffed, "but a man only slows down shopping anyway. Come on, Lizzy dear, let's go pick you out an outfit to die for."

((x))

Lizzy stood in the crowded room and listening to the buzz of conversations that whirled about her. Just like before, she could feel their eyes and she wondered how many of the whispers were about her. Since this was all the new recruits and not just field agents, she wasn't the only woman here, but she was the only one carrying an all too conspicuous death scythe. Her outfit was unusual as well. Field agents were typically required to wear a suit, but she found it completely inappropriate to wear men's attire. Grell had been the one to suggest the dress suits usually worn by secretaries, but the tight fitting skirts weren't very conducive for jumping and running, and she found the length to be far too short for her liking. It had taken a bit of time, and a visit to the seamstress, but Lizzy had finally found a suitable alternative. Her skirt was long, but loose and full enough to give her full range of movement. She didn't like the dreary black color, but Grell had promised to help her add some spice to her wardrobe later. At least she now had an outfit that was functional and modest. However, it only made her stand out even more than she already did.

After what felt like an eternity, a tall man with expertly groomed short, dark hair stepped in front of the group. Despite herself, Lizzy smiled as she found herself thinking that this man had the sort of look her mother would have approved, but then gasped at the realization of another memory. Her mother, whose name and face was still lost to her, had been a woman with strong ideals and morals. That much she knew for certain, and she would have liked the man who stood before and demanded attention even before he had even spoken a word.

"My name is William T. Spears," he announced, "and I am the advisor of the field agent class. If you have been assigned to this class, please step out and follow me. Do no dawdle for there is much to attend to and we're already behind schedule." Turning sharping on his heel, he left the room as nervous students followed quickly. Lizzy smoothed her smile away as she fell into step behind a group of what seemed to be about 30 students. Without a lot of talk, they were led into a smaller room where a shorter, stocky man was standing.

"You will be divided into two groups," William stated, "Half will be in my class and half of you will be assigned to my associate, Mr. Jeffrey Bishop." He motioned to the man beside him. "I will be acting as advisor for all of you, so if there are any questions concerning any of your classes, they are to be addressed directly to myself. My office is on the 3rd floor of the main building. I will be available to speak to you on Wednesday and Friday from the hours between three and four p.m. Punctuality is a very important trait among reapers, so I will not speak to any student except during the designated time."

The man who had been designated as Jeffry stepped forward. He was a few inches shorter than William, but he was broader across the shoulders. His light brown hair was well trimmed, as was his beard. "If I call your name," he began, "please step to the right as you will be in my class." Lizzy found that she didn't like his voice, which she found to be a bit nasally. He began to call names, and hers was the third one he called. Jeffrey eyed her almost as if he was suspicious of her, and that gave her another reason not to care for her. William had obviously noticed her as the only female in the group, but he had not allowed his eye to linger or any expression to pass his countenance. She wished she had been in his class, but there was nothing she could do about the situation.

Once they had been divided, William led his group to one direction while she was forced to follow Jeffrey to yet another room. Standing by the open door, Jeffrey motioned for the other students to enter, and they began to do so, but he grabbed her arm as she passed and pulled her from the line. When all the other students were in the room, he leaned so close to her that frames of his glasses cracked into her own.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed.

"I…I was assigned, sir," she answered.

He gave a low chuckle. "I'm not going to get embarrassed my first time teaching. You have no place here." He let go of her arm and stared down coldly at her. "Do what you want, girlie," he said, "but know this. I have no intention of letting you pass this class."

With those words, he stomped inside of the room as a very shocked Lizzy could only watch as she allowed his words to tumble around in her mind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

Lizzy stood in the hallway for a moment, but then she saw that Jeffrey was preparing to close the door. Making a quick decision, she stepped inside and stood beside the other students as she tried to ignore the way that Jeffrey glared at her. There were glances among her classmates as well, but none looked at her with the same hostility, and Lizzy wished that she could be anywhere else at the moment. Although assigned to the field agent class, she couldn't help but wonder if things would be easier on her if she had been grouped with the office workers.

"You may take your seats," Jeffrey said, motioning to rows of tables and chairs, "and we'll finish with today's orientation."

Lizzy chose the table nearest to where she had been standing, but the other students paired off. She saw that they were an uneven number, and she was the odd one out. She tried to not allow this to bother her, as she demurely folded her hands upon the table and waited for further instructions.

"Later today," announced the instructor, "we'll take a tour of both campus as well as the areas of our realm that will be important to you. Mr. Spears' group is taking that very tour at the moment. For now, I'm going to simply explain how classes will be arranged and what will be expected of all of you."

He crossed the room as he spoke, and all eyes followed him. There was little talk, and Lizzy could feel the general nervousness flitter about the room like a fragile bird.

"Field agent is the most dangerous position," Jeffrey finally continued, "and arguably one of the most important. Your job will be to go to the living realm to collect the records and souls of the humans who have died so they can be collected and later judged. It is dangerous since it is possible to be attacked by both demons and the records themselves." He paused for a moment as if allowing his weighty information to sink in fully. "Humans do struggle to live, so even their records are known to put up quite a fight."

It was odd for Lizzy to listen to all this information about humans as if they were separate creatures because she still felt basically human, but she pushed aside those thoughts as she struggled to pay attention to every word. She already knew that Jeffrey didn't appear to like her, so she was determined to show that she should be a good student.

"Because of these dangers," Jeffrey continued, "field agents have the most difficult classes. You will have to study very diligently to pass. Although you will have multiple classes, your final grades will be assessed from three categories." He held up three fingers as he verbally ticked off the categories. "First, there is Written, which is a series of tests. You will have a lot of information about rules, regulations, guidelines, etc. which you must be able to recall easily and efficiently. You will be tested on this periodically, and there is a comprehensive test over all of this information after classes have completed. Second is Ethics. This is one area that gives a lot of newly born reapers, like yourselves, a lot of difficulty. You have to forget everything you might have learned about human ethics, because very little of that will be applicable. You are not to play the hero or savior. Your job will be collection without interference. Finally, there is Practical, which itself is divided into three groups, so you will receive three grades for this class. You will be trained on proper use of a scythe, record extraction and storing, and proper offence and defense. Are there any questions so far?"

A young man with messy, brown hair timidly raised his hand. "What if we, uh, fail a class, sir?"

Jeffrey smiled broadly, but his eyes were cold as they flickered past the student who had asked the question to rest briefly on Lizzy. "Trust me," he said, "you don't want to fail."

Lizzy tried not to squirm under his gaze as she heard a few people begin to whisper behind her. She had no idea if they had noticed that she was being treated differently, or if the warning about not failing had simply rattled everyone.

"As I said before, you will have many classes and other instructors," Jeffrey said, "but I will be giving the final grades. After you have passed Written, Ethics, and Practical, you will be given a final test. You will be paired with another field to observe a human closely, judge him or her, and then collect the soul at the appropriate time if it is determined that the human in question should die. Now, did everyone pick up their trainee scythes?"

There were some nods as scythes were produced. Jeffrey seemed pleased as he walked across the room and pulled out what could only be described as some sort of cloth dummy from a small closet. It was about as tall as an average person, and hung from a stand so that it appeared to be standing. He positioned the stand so that it stood front and center before throwing his arm out to his side. To Lizzy's amazement, a weapon that looked like a finely polished sword appeared in her grasp.

"This is my own death scythe," stated Jeffrey, "You will learn to summon your own later in your classes, and you will be permitted to customize one to your liking after graduating if you file the proper paperwork. I know that I've always preferred the blade of a finely crafted sword myself. Learning to use your death scythe properly is of the upmost importance, so it will be a fine beginning lesson for all of you."

Lizzy barely heard his words as her eyes were drawn to the sword and she was lost in the familiarity. She could almost feel its weight in her hand, and slowly memories tried to bubble to the surface. She was so lost in her own thoughts and not quite fully realized memories, she didn't hear Jeffrey's words until he suddenly stabbed the dummy.

"You don't need to drive you scythe deep into the body," he said, and Lizzy hoped that she hadn't missed much, "and it doesn't matter where you strike. The records will escape the body no matter where you hit, but it's best to aim for the chest – near the heart. This gives you the best angle to collect the records safely. Also, you need to be prepared for anything. Sometimes, you'll be able to approach the body easily, but sometimes you'll need to come at it from a different angle." He pointed to a tall man with cornflower hair and pale freckles. "Come up here and try using your trainee scythe on Mr. Stabalot here."

There was a chuckle at the dummy's name as the man stepped forward. Lizzy saw that his approach was awkward, and he used his scythe clumsily, but Jeffrey only nodded. "Not bad for a first try," he said, and then pointed to another student, "Your turn."

One by one, they were called to the front to try their hand using their scythes, until Lizzy was the final student. Although nervous, she felt a surge of energy and something like confidence. A part of her knew that she could do this task, and she wanted to show Jeffrey her abilities.

"Now that we've all given it a try," Jeffrey began, "we can move on to-"

"Pardon me, Mr. Bishop, sir," Lizzy spoke up, "I haven't had a chance."

Jeffrey stared at her solidly. "I didn't think you'd be interested," he said, not quite managing to suppress his sneer, "It doesn't seem fitting for a lady." A few nervous giggles sounded throughout the room.

"I would like to try," Lizzy insisted, standing up.

Jeffrey shook his head but made a motion to indicate for her to give to make her attempt. As she walked forward, her confidence grew and her grip about the base of her scythe tightened. She would have preferred a sword like Jeffrey, but she still knew how to use the curved instrument in her hand. Leaping forward gracefully, she expertly drove the scythe into the chest of the dummy. Before she could celebrate her small victory, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Removing her scythe, she jumped to the side just in time to avoid the arc of Jeffrey's sword. Taking a defensive stance, she waited for his next move, but the instructor only smiled at her oddly.

"As you see," he said, turning back to the other students, "You always have to be prepared. Now, let's move on to how you should properly care for your scythe."

Lizzy walked slowly back to her seat, but she was a little surprised by the expression of the other students. Most of them appeared to be surprised at what had just occurred, and no one seemed to be judging her.

In fact, she was almost certain a few were looking at her with respect.

((x))

Although the smells that wafted around the cafeteria were delicious, Lizzy found she had very little appetite as she moved the food around the plate with her fork. All around her, conversations hummed and buzzed, but she was sitting completely alone at a small table. Although she didn't think she had been paranoid previously, she found herself wondering how many of the hushed conversations and whispers were about her.

"Hey, babe," a familiar voice said, "How's your first day so far?"

She turned just in time to see Ronald's smiling face as he sat down beside her. Although she was still slightly uncomfortable with him, it was nice to see someone familiar. "It has been rather interesting," she said, diplomatically.

He nodded. "The first day is rough," he replied, "I still remember what it's like, even though it was a long time ago."

"How long have you been a reaper?"

Looking upward, he seemed to be searching through his memory. "Just over 25 years," he said, "but I'm still considered a 'youngin' by reaper standards." He chuckled slightly. "I sometimes tease Senior Sutcliff since he's been reapin' for a century now."

"Really? That long?" Lizzy was amazed, "He doesn't seem that old."

"Well, you stop aging when you become a reaper," he replied, as he leaned closer, "which is one of the good side effects. We get to stay young and good-looking forever."

She scooted away slightly. "Why do you call Grell Senior Sutcliff?"

"Because he was my mentor," Ronald replied, "You're really supposed to call me Senior Knox, but that makes me sound like an old man or something." He moved back. "And sorry if I make you uncomfortable. Senior Sutcliff told me you aren't you used to anyone flirting with you, but I don't mean anything by it. I'm just having fun with you. So, anything particularly interesting happen today?"

Lizzy started moving her food listlessly around her plate once again. "I think the instructor, Mr. Bishop, does not particularly like me," she finally admitted.

"Why?"

She took a deep breath as she thought about how to best word her fears. "He told me that he was not going to fail me," she began, "before we even entered the room. He seemed almost offended that I was in his class. Afterwards, he had us use our practice scythes, and he acted as if he was going to attack me. I jumped out of the way, and he simply turned it into part of the lesson, but he only did that with me. Later, when we went on the tour, he ignored my questions except when he mocked me." By finally giving a voice to all that had happened to her, she felt herself want to cry, but she held back the tears.

Ronald seemed amazed. "That's sounds bad. You probably should talk to Mr. Spears about it. You met him this morning, right?"

Lizzy nodded and even managed a slight smile. "Yes," she replied, "He was very straightforward and serious. I remember thinking he's just the sort of man my mother would have approved of."

"Does this mean your memories are coming back?" asked Ronald, "I mean, if you know that your mom would have liked William and all."

"I still do not have all of my memories," Lizzy answered, "but there are a few things that I remember." She sighed loudly, "I wonder when I'll remember everything."

"I'm sure it will be soon," Ronald answered. He looked down at her plate before holding out his arm. "If you're done with this slop," he said, "I know a place nearby where you can get some real food. Are you interested?" He held out his arm to her, which she looked at for several minutes as she considered the offer.

"It is tempting," she admitted, "but I am really not hungry. Perhaps we can some other time?"

"Of course," he said, but she could tell that he was disappointed.

"We really will do it someday," she insisted, as she stood up, "I just think I want to go back to my room and rest for now."

"Okay," he replied in a slightly hurt tone, but he managed a smile and a wave as she walked away.

((x))

The next morning began much the same as the previous one, and Lizzy began to sense a pattern emerging. Although there was a lot of talk of schedules and promptness, it only had to do with specific, daily events. The days themselves melted into one another so that it became hard to distinguish one from another. She was still only beginning, but a week, a month, or even a year could pass by like this without it even being noticeable. She supposed time didn't matter as much since she no longer had to fear growing old, but the idea still made her shudder slightly. Quickly, she dressed in her specially designed suit and styled her blonde hair before hurrying to class.

They met in the same room as before, and Jeffrey didn't eye her any more kindly than he had the first day. She also noticed that some of the conversations quieted softly when she entered. Her classmates weren't openly rude like Mr. Bishop, but they still hadn't opened up or asked her to become part of the overall group. They viewed her more like a specimen, but she tried to pretend that their scrutiny didn't affect her. She was a lady after all, and a lady was often scrutinized for any flaw when she stepped out into society.

Lizzy gasped slightly because the last thought had slipped through her mind in another voice, and she knew with certainty it was her mother's voice. Smiling, she sat in stunned silence as memories slowly began to filter in like pure drops of icy water melting from a glacier. Her mother's name was Francis, and she was a woman renowned for her beauty, strength, and strict adherence to principles. Her father, Alexis, and her brother, Edward, were now clear and solid in her mind as well. Tears filled her eyes as she thought of her family and her home, which she realized she would probably never see again. She had so many fond memories of her family and of growing up.

And of her fiancé Ciel.

The name had been in her mind already, and she had felt the rush of emotion each time she had said it aloud, but now she saw his face as clearly as if he was standing before her. Handsome, yet he almost always looked so solemn and serious – that was the face of the only man she knew she could ever love. Yet, Ciel had died before they had a chance to be married. She could see him now clearly lying in a casket surrounding by pure, white lilies, but there was something suspicious about his death…

"Are you listening, Midford, or can't my voice get through that silly, blonde head of yours?"

Lizzy jumped and found herself staring directly into the rather angry face of Jeffrey. She hadn't meant to let her mind wander, but she had been unable to stop the absolute flood of memories that had assaulted her. "I'm sorry, Mr. Bishop," she apologized humbly.

Jeffrey stood up and snorted as he towered over her. "I knew it was a mistake to let you in this class."

"And why is that?" questioned a flamboyant voice from the doorway. With a swish of scarlet hair, Grell swept into the room as he narrowed eyes to stare at Jeffrey, who had stepped back slightly.

"I didn't see you there, Mr. Sutcliff," Jeffrey said in a flustered tone, "I was just telling the students that you would be their instructor for the first part of Practical."

"Miss Sutcliff," Grell immediately corrected, "and everyone can see that I'm here. Now, shoo! If I'm to have to take on this dreadful chore of babysitting, then at least let me do it properly."

"Of course," Jeffrey said, but Lizzy could tell by his flushed face that he wasn't happy with the situation. He shot her a final look of something akin to pure hatred before scurrying past Grell and out the door.

Grell barely noticed as he crossed the room and took a seat on top of the desk. With a dramatic cross of the slender legs, Grell surveyed the classroom with his typical shark toothed smile on full display, but it softened as it passed over Lizzy. "To pick up where dear, confused Jeff left off, I am Miss Sutcliff," Grell announced, "and I will be teaching you about the basics of how to use your scythe. I also teach an honors course in scythe modification that some of you may qualify for, but for now we have to start at the beginning. Has Jeff worked with you on your scythes yet? I know he does love a demonstration on the first day."

At first, no one volunteered an answer, and Lizzy was a little surprised by the hushed whispers that reached her ears. The other students seemed frightened by Grell, but she figured that they just hadn't had a chance to get to know him yet. While some of his actions and speech confused her, such as his insistence at being referred to as miss, Lizzy far preferred him to Jeffrey. Seeing he was waiting for an answer, Lizzy hesitantly raised her hand and waited until Grell acknowledged her.

"Mr. Bishop had us try out our scythes on a dummy," Lizzy said, "He also said the records would come out of anyone we struck, but we should aim for the chest if we could."

Grell nodded. "That man simply has no imagination, but I suppose that was acceptable as a start. Of course, there's so much more. Learning to become comfortable with your scythes is important, but a dummy can't move or fight back. I think you need a better target." His smile grew as he leapt from the desk with catlike grace and motioned to the class. "Follow me," he instructed, "We really need to be out in an open area for a proper workout. Don't forget your scythes since I doubt any of you can summon them yet."

Still whispering and murmuring among themselves, the students stood up and filed out of the room behind Grell, who led them to an open, grassy area between the buildings. After they had all made their way into the small clearing, Grell turned to face the class and there was some sort of roaring machine in his hand. There was definite confusion and excitement, but a new memory suddenly bloomed in Lizzy's mind. She had thought she had seen Grell before, but couldn't place him, but now she saw a sinking ship full of the walking dead. She had been ready to face off against Grell, thinking that he was a potential threat to her dear Ciel, although he had actually made no move against them.

"Come on then," Grell was saying, and Lizzy snapped out of the memory, "Come at me one a time and try to hit me."

A few of the boys looked at each other, and finally a tall young man with shortly trimmed brown hair did jump forward. Grell barely had to dodge the assault, and soon the other students were all leaping and yelling. The red reaper seemed to be having a lot of fun as he twisted and dodged, although it seemed more like a dance. Lizzy could see that the stories revolving around his talents weren't exaggerated, but no one here knew what she was capable of, and a smile crossed her face when she saw her opening.

She didn't shout to announce her attack, but she jumped silently into the air and aimed her scythe for Grell's back. He saw her in time, but he had to put forth more effort to dodge, although Lizzy was far from done. Her foot had only barely scraped the ground before she launched herself in his direction. There was no surprise in is features, but his smile grew as he again he moved, but this time his own, noisy scythe was being brought up into an offensive position. She had no fear as she launched again, and she was surprised by out light, agile, and strong this new body was compared to her old. She had been a force to be reckoned with as a mere human girl, but now she knew that few creatures had a chance against her. With a shout, she sprang towards him to deliver the final blow.

Grell's movements were a blur even to her eyes, and he was behind her before Lizzy could maneuver. He didn't strike her with his scythe, but he used it to remove the trainer scythe from her hands and throw her off balance. She fell to the ground, although she was able to catch herself before falling face first.

"And that's how you use a scythe," Grell said, obviously not even winded. "None of you will ever be able to face me, but I'd take some lessons from young Lizzy here. She's the only one with any real potential. Okay? Class dismissed."

Grell didn't wait around to see if there were any questions, but turned and quickly walked away as lightly as one could on four inch heels. Lizzy stood up, but she walked Grell as he sashayed into the distance. More and more memories were falling into place, but she still had no idea why that red coat just seemed so familiar.

"You're really good with that scythe," complimented the boy with the messy cornflower hair and freckles.

"Thank you," she said, looking down and blushing slightly. It was the first time one of the other students had spoken to her directly.

"Do you think you could give me a few pointers later?" he asked, and some of the other students nearby began to nod and motion they would like lessons as well.

"I suppose," she agreed, "When would you like to start?"

"Maybe tomorrow," he said, but then he leaned closer, "Hey, I heard some of the upperclassman talking. They're going to sneak in the library later tonight, and some of my friends and me are going. Do you want to come along?"

"Why would you sneak into the library?" she asked.

He shrugged. "They say there's some really interesting records in there," he said, "the other student go in there to watch, and I heard there's a juicy one about that professor, uh, Sutcliff in there. So, do you want to come?"

Actually, Lizzy didn't, but she was intrigued with the prospect of learning more about Grell. She genuinely liked him, but she knew he was hiding something from her. Perhaps this bit of information could even help her with her own memories. "Okay," she said.

"Meet us in front of the library at 10'oclock," he instructed, "but be quiet. If we get caught sneaking in, we'll get in trouble." He laughed mischievously and turned to hurry away, but then he paused and looked at Lizzy again. "See you later, Elizabeth."

"You can call me Lizzy," she replied with a smile.

He nodded. "My name's Marcus, by the way. See you tonight."

As he ran away, Lizzy couldn't help but finally feel as if she was being accepted by her classmates, but she hoped that she wouldn't get into any trouble tonight. She hated to break the rules, but she still had to take a chance if there was any chance she could learn what Grell was hiding.


End file.
